


How To Woo A Werewolf

by djinndreaming



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinndreaming/pseuds/djinndreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Stiles Stilinski - who has been there, done that, and lived to tell the tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Woo A Werewolf

1\. SHOW UP AT HIS DOOR UNANNOUNCED

 

“Why are you here, Stiles?”

Stiles grins. “I thought we can hang out together. You know, do bro things, like watch movies or play video games - “

Derek snarls. “I don’t have a TV.”

Stiles’ face falls a little bit, but he’s not deterred. 

“That’s okay - you could read me poetry or something.”

Derek slams the door in his face. Next time, though, Stiles thinks. Next time’s the charm.

  


2\. DON’T BE AFRAID TO TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL

  


Stiles has this habit of blurting things that he doesn’t actually mean to say. For instance - 

“I had a really weird dream last night.”

Derek looks at him with an annoyed expression on his face. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says.

“No but - you were in it - and we were like, together. You held my hand and everything.”

Derek runs a hand over his eyes, and Stiles can see a faint flush in his cheeks. “I don’t hold anyone’s hand.”

“Not even mine?”

There’s a long pause, and Stiles thinks, for a mad moment, that he actually is going to hold his hand. Alas:

“Not even yours.”

Bummer.

 

3\. FIGURE OUT THE WAY TO HIS HEART

 

Stiles has this shirt that Derek (begrudgingly) lent him after he accidentally fell out a window and ripped his on some shrubbery. It smells like Derek, even after it gets washed, and Stiles wears it to bed.

“What is that.” It’s a statement, not a question. Derek eyes him from across the room. 

“OH MY GOD. You have got to stop sneaking into my room at two in the goddamn morning!”

“That’s my shirt.”

Stiles clutches it protectively. “Finders keepers.”

An expression crosses Derek’s face that Stiles doesn’t quite understand. “It smells like me.”

“Of course it does; it was yours!”

“No, I mean - you smell like me.”

“I - what? Oh.”

For some inexplicable reason, Derek gives Stiles several bags of hand-me-downs the next day. He seems to stand oddly close to Stiles whenever he wears one.

 

4\. DO AT LEAST ONE STUPID THING

 

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles waves feebly at him. “I’ve heard that before,” he says weakly. Derek presses his hand against the Stiles’ side, trying to stop the blood from the knife wound. 

“You could have been killed!” 

Derek looks all pale, and Stiles can’t really tell if he actually looks like that or if it’s the blood loss talking. “Better me than you, right?” he jokes, but it falls flat.

“No,” Derek says roughly, “don’t be stupid.”

He looks down at Stiles with a worried look on his face. “If you die for me, I will never forgive you.”

Stiles laughs feebly. “You totally care, man.”

Then he passes out.

 

5\. BE FORWARD

 

“Derek,” Stiles says, hands on his hips, “would you ever kiss me?”

Derek rolls his eyes, which is kind of discouraging, but whatever. Eyes on the prize.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“Is this some stupid experiment?” Derek asks. His voice sounds kind of strangled. Weird. “Is this a dare? Are you trying to get me to kill you?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No - are you not listening? I want you to kiss me, not kill me.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Dunno. But I’m kind of like, a little bit in love with you, or something, and it would be frickin’ awesome if there was reciprocation, but I guess not. So, we can just pretend that this conversation never - “

He’s cut off by Derek seizing him roughly by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him close. He can totally count Derek’s eyelashes from here. It’s kind of distracting.

“You’re in love with me?” Derek asks. Stiles squints.

“I said a little bit. A little bit in love with you.”

Derek’s hands let go of his jacket, and they do this weird little dance thing over Stiles’ arms, down to his waist, where they flutter uselessly. Stiles snorts. 

“Dude,” he says, “if you don’t want to, you can just say no. Just - please don’t kill me okay, because I kind of what to experience all sorts of things before I die, if you catch my drift - “

Stiles has a moment to realise that Derek’s hands are holding onto his waist, dragging his hips closer and slotting them against Derek’s. Stiles gasps. “Okay, yeah, that’s good, that’s really - “

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek says, and his voice is very low. It’s all kinds of hot, and Stiles presses his hands against the dip of Derek’s back. 

“Make me,” he says.

Derek moves forward quickly, his mouth pressed roughly to Stiles’. Stiles remembers, distantly, that this is his first kiss, but that thought is lost in the midst of Derek’s teeth and tongue. He bites gently along Stiles’ lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, and Stiles hears moaning before he realises that it’s him. Derek breaks away, his lips dragging over Stiles’ slightly, and Stiles fucking  _pants_.

“Okay,” Derek says, smirking. Stiles hits him in the arm.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of doing that again,” Stiles warns. “I want many more kisses. I want all the kisses. And - things. Other things.”

Derek grins, which is kind of an odd expression to see on his face, but really, who cares. He grins, and then he pulls Stiles close again. “I think I can do that,” he says, and he kisses Stiles again.


End file.
